


One Last Breath (or maybe not)

by Costa_Cat



Series: Scenes I write from my rp... [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depressed Lance, Depression, Established Relationship, Fear, I think I'm done fuck, It's not rly feel good so, Kinda, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, M/M, Overdose, Panic Attack, Sad, Suicidal! Lance, Suicide Attempt, Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, angst yeah, ansgt, breakdown - Freeform, concerned Shiro, forced throwing up, haha yeet no I'm not, here we go lads, i think this is it, previous suicide attempts mentioned, so much, yeeeee I'm done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:31:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Costa_Cat/pseuds/Costa_Cat
Summary: Please ignore the title I keep on forgetting those are THINGS THAT EXIST.So anyway;Keith is 100% sure that something is seriously wrong with Lance.Keith is 100% right. Oh boy.





	One Last Breath (or maybe not)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is in the same universe as the last work, but you don't have to read them in order. This is before the first work, where Lance is getting seriously fucked yo
> 
> Also, hehe, spoiler: Lance tries to kill himself so if you know that may trigger you please proceed with caution. 
> 
> Okay I'm done so have fun also I hate the ending sorry

"Have you seen Lance?"

The question is innocent enough. But the poorly hidden worry in Keith's eyes is enough to make Shiro frown deeply, rubbing his arm absentmindedly as he racks his brain for the last time he and the blue paladin talked.

"I haven't seen him since... yesterday? Is there something wrong? " He asks, trying to keep his voice calm and soft as his own worry begins to form.

Keith's face hardens slightly and when he responds, his voice is clipped and tight.

"I don't know. I need to go find him" He says, a quick flash of desperation shines in his eyes before it disappears. If Shiro had blinked he would have missed it.

Before the younger boy can scurry off, Shiro's hand shoots out and claps around his arm, causing Keith to halt in his tracks, eyes turning cold as he glares at him. Shiro tries to conceal his surprise at Keith's... hostility.

"Keith... is Lance okay? What's going on?" He asks, a flash of desperation glazing his own eyes.

But he gets shoved off, Shiro stumbling back half a step at the force of it. The image of Keith briskly walking away, anger yet concern radiating of him, coupled with a mumbled 'he's probably fine' is all the only answer he's graced with, and it doesn't nothing to quell the ever increasing worry destined to consume him.

He stares at the empty corridor, that stretches onward into oblivion, long after Keith left, concern and confusion his only company as he debates his next step.

 

 

Lance isn't in their shared room, which causes Keith to ball his fists in worried anger. He hasn't been able to shake the feeling that something's wrong with his boyfriend, and now he's failing to locate him, which just adds to Keith's increasingly building dread.

His footsteps echo uncomfortably against the castle walls as he trudges his way to Lance's old room.

'Please be okay, please be okay' he thinks, repeating the desperate inner mantra to himself as his heart thuds too fast and his breath hitches irritatingly.

When the door swings anxiously open, Keith's stomach drops as his body freezes up, hand stuck on the cold door handle as frantic eyes take in the sight in front of him that will forever be burned into his mind, ready to torture him during pained sleepless nights.

The room is utterly trashed.

Glass. Broken shards of glass paint the room, mixed with the colour of broken remnants of furniture, an empty desk, the belongings it used to hold now scattered on the floor, and shattered picture frames come together to create a terrifying picture of loss. Of worry.

Of fear.

And Lance, the last piece of the painting, is sprawled gracelessly on the bed, head lolled lifelessly to the side, body seemingly drained of everything. Now just an empty carcass of the man he loves.

His pained, tear filled eyes are glued to the glaring object held loosely in his boyfriends hand.

A pill bottle.

An empty pill bottle.

"No. No, no, not happening, no!" The words spill from his quivering lips before he can stop them, and he's springing forward towards the bed, not hesitating even a fraction of a second as he drags Lance into the bathroom, collapsing into the bathtub and not reacting at all as cold water cascades over the both of them, dampening their clothes uncomfortably.

But Keith isn't thinking about any of that as he shoves his fingers down his boyfriends throat, desperately trying to trigger his gag reflex.

"Please, please work" He begs. But no one is listening. No one is here to listen. It's just him and his seemingly dead boyfriend.

No. He's not dead. He can't be dead. He shakes at the thought and stubbornly pushes it away, focusing all his attention on keeping his boyfriend alive.

His eyes flash dimly in relief as Lance's body convulses and pills mixed with bile tumble out of trembling lips. Keith angles Lance towards the drain and rubs his back, the repetitive motion bringing him the tiniest semblance of comfort.

He eyes the mess in front of him, paling as he realises that Lance hasn't thrown nearly enough up. But his fingers are faster than his mind, which is plagued with worry and fear, and are already down his shaking boyfriends throat, who convulses at the frantic intrusion, throwing up once more.

"You swallowed so fucking many." It's nothing but a statement full of heartbreak, voice cracking at the end, and Keith isn't entirely sure why he said it.

He finds himself beginning to shake, the coldness of the water having nothing to do with it, as he tries to fight off a crushing panic attack.

Lance still hasn't thrown up enough pills.

"C'mon baby, just a little more, just a little more okay?" He whispers, voice trembling and weak, trying to reassure both himself and his boyfriend.

He forces himself to breathe in deeply, briefly letting his eyes slip closed, air slowing pushing out of apprehensive lips and he carefully steels himself.

And then his are snapping open and he's sticking his trembling fingers back into Lance's soiled mouth.

He throws up once last time, the rest of the pills stumbling awkwardly out of his mouth as tiny dribbles of bile accompany it.

With an irritating tremor to his movements, he picks up a cloth and wets it, cautious to use warm water, and wipes Lance's face with a tenderness only his boyfriend gets to witness, something Lance is very proud of himself for.

Keith sits back and Lance falls into his chest, his breaths far too slow, and when Keith rests his hand firmly against Lance's chest, his heartbeat mirrors his breathing. But it's there... it's there and that's what Keith forces himself to focus on as his pained, tear filled eyes watch as the remnants of his boyfriend suicide attempt is washed away down the drain, the pills and bile disappearing forever. But the memory of this will never leave either of them.

This is not the hard part.

The hard part is when Lance wakes up. The hard part is watching his boyfriend crumble under the disappointing weight of yet another failed attempt.

The hard part is holding him tightly to his chest and whispering softly about how it _will_ get better, it'll be better, that Lance just has to be there to see it.

The hard part is watching as his boyfriend just blinks tiredly, all hope sapped from his quivering body, dull eyes trained on the ceiling as he silently wishes, not for the first time, that he hadn't of failed.

But Keith will be there. He isn't leaving his side. He refuses too. Because when Lance shoots him one of those soft, rare, sincere smile it's all worth it.

When he turns and snuggles up to him in bed, face smushed into Keith's chest or neck, it's so worth it.

He presses a kiss to his boyfriends sopping wet hair and runs his ever shaking fingers through it.

"I love you."

At first, there's no response, and Keith isn't expecting one.

But then Lance's head is moving on its own. It's not much, he only lifts his head a little, clearly struggling to do so, and blinks, eyes unfocused.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm" Is all his boyfriend manages, before his head falls back against Keith's chest, crashing into the wet fabric of his t-shirt, weak against the pull of unconsciousness.

Keith keeps his hand planted firmly over Lance's heart, focusing on the worryingly weak heartbeat.

A few hours later finds them back in their shared room, Lance still asleep and huddled protectively into Keith's chest.

His heartbeat is slightly stronger, breathing more prominent and he takes comfort in every puff of breath coming out of slack lips.

Despite the covers cocooned around them, both Lance and Keith are shivering, still damp from the bath. But he refuses to leave his sleeping boyfriends side. He has to be here when he wakes up. (He stubbornly ignores the part of him that whispers 'if he wakes up').

A few hours later finds them in the exact same place, heartbeat once again a little stronger.

Only this time Lance is drifting in and out of consciousness. Right now, he's half asleep, mumbling incoherent words in two different languages, sleepily nuzzling into Keith's neck before he once again succumbs to pressing unconsciousness.

Keith just smiles softly and presses a kiss to his now dry hair, running his hands through the strands as he pulls him closer.

A few hours laters finds Lance straddling Keith's lap, face smushed into his neck, crying uncontrollably.

"It'll be okay, Lance. It will. You just gotta be there to see it okay? We'll both be there. I promise" He murmurs softly into his boyfriends ear, one hand rubbing his back as the other runs through his hair in a repetitive motion that comforts them both.

Lance just presses further into Keith's neck, his hands gripping his back, and remains quiet, the sounds of his sobs resonating throughout the room.

He can tell Lance doesn't believe him, which spurs him into tightening his grip.

"I love you" He pipes up shakily, voice muffled by shame, despair and the skin of Keith's neck.

He kisses his hair again. "I love you too. More than you could possibly know"

Lance nods slightly and Keith smiles weakly as he feels a kiss pressed against the wetness of his neck.

A few hours later finds them at breakfast, and if anyone notices that Lance is swaying slightly, mumbling most of his words, body weight mostly supported by Keith, they don't say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow we're done do u also hate the ending???
> 
> Also poor Lance I literally want him to die at this point bc I feel bad for keeping him alive anyway.. so yeah this is another thing that happened in my rp so I wrote it out!!
> 
> Also pls please comments and kudos I'm a slut for it and I need validation thx bye


End file.
